


I’ll make sure you live

by Callmepapi



Series: *Whumptober 2020* [18]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Hostage Situations, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Whumptober 2020, hostage Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi
Summary: Geralt stood up, suddenly wishing he had his swords with him, his fists would have to do. The Lord had grabbed Jaskier - the only hostage near the him - and held the knife to his throat. The lute clanged when it hit the floor and Jaskier brought his hands up to grip the hand holding the knife.Or, Jaskier gets held hostage at a ball.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: *Whumptober 2020* [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947244
Comments: 8
Kudos: 170





	I’ll make sure you live

**Author's Note:**

> Day 18 of whumptober - hostage
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated XD

Geralt never liked balls. Too much noise, too many people. Everyone was annoyingly drunk and Geralt was sober, thanks to the mutations not allowing him to get drunk unless it’s concentrated enough to kill a human.

Of course, it was Jaskier that dragged him here, as usual. The bard had a job offer and he grabbed it, he only brought Geralt for the same reason he brought him to Cintra - to keep the angered husbands and wives at bay while Jaskier played his songs.

Geralt immediately regretted being here when a fight finally broke out, well, less of a fight and more of a lot of shouting. It seemed as though a Lord had been accused of sleeping with the duchess, a crime punishable by death.

“You can’t prove it!” The Lord shouted. Jaskier’s lute playing stopped as everyone quietened down and watched the commotion. Geralt watched from afar in one of the seats by the wall.

The Lord ran but was quickly stopped by a wall of guards cutting him off. He turned and ran back to the top of the hall. He pulled a knife from his sleeve, small enough to remain hidden but sharp enough to slice.

Geralt stood up, suddenly wishing he had his swords with him, his fists would have to do. The Lord had grabbed Jaskier - the only hostage near the him - and held the knife to his throat. The lute clanged when it hit the floor and Jaskier brought his hands up to grip the hand holding the knife.

“Give me passage out of here and the bard lives!” He shouted. The Lord was acting like a cornered animal and Geralt knew he had to do something quick, less Jaskier die by a cut to the throat.

The blade pushed into jaskier’s neck and a red pearl of blood dripped down from it, he gulped, his throat bobbing which only pushed further into the blade. 

Geralt moved towards him, he brought his hands up - more in a peaceful manner than a violent one - and motioned towards the lord.

“Let the bard go,” he growled. The Lord only shook his head and dragged the blade closer, causing Jaskier to whimper when it only drew more blood.

“No! Let me leave or I'll kill him! I’ll slice his throat in front of everyone!”

“Then that would incriminate you, you’d be hanged for murder.” The Lord glanced to the floor then back at geralt.

“Then I guess there’s no hope for me at all.” The Lord dug the blade into jaskier’s neck and then his own. Geralt watched as the bard’s eyes grew wide as he coughed up blood and fell to the floor.

Geralt ran towards him, cradling his head in his lap as Jaskier cried and choked. He had to think fast, he refused to let jaskier die tonight, in one of the most shitiest balls they’d ever been to.

He reached towards his pockets, trying to remember if he’d packed a potion just in case of emergencies and- ha! He had! Thank  _ fuck _ .

He poured the potion over jaskier’s neck, trying to block out the gurgles of agony as he did, then poured the rest into jaskier’s mouth. He watched as the wound itself slowly knitted back together, until there was nothing left but smooth, unblemished skin. And a sweaty, bloody, shaky Jaskier.

Gods, Geralt couldn’t wait to leave.

  
  



End file.
